


And She Chose to Stay

by anotherfirename



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Here Lies the Abyss, Red Hawke, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6868813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherfirename/pseuds/anotherfirename
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. During her last stand Hawke remembers her life and the things she left behind. She always knew she'd go down fighting. She just didn't get the details right.</p>
<p>You know what quest this is. You know what this is about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And She Chose to Stay

“Say goodbye to Varric for me.”

The monster is big, but not so big that Hawke can’t see the end of it. She finds this reassuring. The Fade is nothing but endless bullshit as far as she’s concerned, all packed with demons and lies, but a giant thing that fights and bleeds is comfortingly familiar.

_Isabela shouts something about getting the first pick of the dragon’s loot. Anders frowns in concentration as a healing aura pulses around him. Fenris draws his sword without taking his eyes off the sky. A massive shadow passes over them, and a roar echoes through the valley. Hawke’s grin is wicked and sharp like her daggers. Excitement shivers down her spine._

Hawke rushes forward with a battle cry that seems to shake the Fade itself. Her daggers slice through the monster’s flesh, drenching her with its blood. This is nothing new. She is the Champion of Kirkwall painted in the blood of her enemies. Her cuts are fast but messy as she tears into the monster with more anger than sense.

_“You should be more careful, Hawke. One day I may not reach you in time.”_

_“I can take a hit.”_

_“Yes, but not as many as you think. How many times have you almost fallen in battle because you were being reckless?”_

_“You’re concerned. How sweet.”_

_“Hawke.”_

_“Stop worrying, Fenris. I’ll be fine.”_

Out of the corner of her eye she sees the Inquisitor and Warden Alistair running for the rift. She can’t count the number of times she wanted to punch the Warden, but she meant what she said about rebuilding. The Grey Wardens can’t lose one of the few people decent and strong enough to fight them when they’re wrong. The Order has to thrive, if only for selfish reasons.

_“I don’t think I’m going to make it.”_

_“You will make it. You will.”_

_“And if we do find the Wardens? What then?”_

_“I make them help you.”_

_“Even if I survive…Anders said we might never see each other again.”_

_“I know what he said! But I won’t let you die, Bethany. Not while I still breathe.”_

She slashes at an eye, or at least what she thinks is an eye. With every strike she lets her anger spill free despite the lessons her friends tried to teach her. For the longest time her anger has given her strength. So there she was, trying to be strong enough to defend her sister from Templars. Trying to be strong enough to protect her brother at Ostagar. Trying to be strong enough to look after her mother with Malcolm gone. Trying to be strong enough to save Kirkwall. Succeeding at first, but failing at the end. Failing time and time again until the strength wore out and the anger ran thin. Maybe all that’s left is being angry at herself. She amends this thought. There’s still Corypheus.

_The slavers don’t have time to try and beg for mercy. The ones that avoid Fenris’ blade find Hawke’s instead. What happened at Kirkwall was complicated between Qunari, blood magic, and red lyrium. This is simple and bloody, but it suits her. There’s no trying to settle arguments she has no patience for, and there’s no constant wondering if there’s even a right thing to do be done. Here she is no Champion, just another ghost in the woods. She knows it can’t last, but some days she pretends it will._

Hawke always knew she would die sacrificing herself for someone else. She just thought it’d be for someone different.

_By the light of the campfire she traces lyrium lines so gently she barely touches him at all. The closeness is still uncertain for both of them, but it grows more familiar with every passing day. Loving is not a word either of them would claim. Yet it works, and they are happy._

Hawke has always been angry. Angry at the world, angry at herself, and now angry at the monster she tears to pieces. Certainty sits in her chest like a rock. In both battle and duty she knows she chose correctly. Except anger burns away into grief for another person failed, and another thing she can never make right. Then two words said as easily as breathing, and meant with all her heart.

“Sorry, Fenris.”


End file.
